


Communication Breakdown

by Vagrant_Blvrd



Series: Kings of Nowhere [64]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe- GTA V, Fake AH Crew, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 08:03:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20093983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vagrant_Blvrd/pseuds/Vagrant_Blvrd
Summary: Matt fucked up.He really,reallyfucked up.Gavin is staring at him in shock and the rest of the crew is in various states of panic and alarm and Matt’s really fucked up now.





	Communication Breakdown

**Author's Note:**

> For queen_bitchiest who asked for something based on [this post](https://oh-nostalgiaa.tumblr.com/post/185406761518/were-fake-dating-and-im-supposed-to-publicly) that kind of sort of got away from me and is somewhat similar. /o\

Matt fucked up.

He really, _really_ fucked up.

Gavin is staring at him in shock and the rest of the crew is in various states of panic and alarm and Matt’s really fucked up now.

(To be fair, Gavin’s been pissing Matt off for the last forever, doing the stupidest shit and thinking it’s just fine and dandy and all of that and Matt has had fucking enough, okay? So much enough he doesn’t have the words for how much enough.)

“...What?”

Matt clears his throat, glancing at the others – still confused as hell and trying to make sense of the scene in front of them - and Matt’s bad knee is not enjoying any of this, okay. 

So not.

“I said,” Matt says, clearing his throat again because that goddamn cough is acting up again. “Will you marry me, you piece of shit.”

There’s - 

“Wow,” Jack says, first to recover. “Just. Wow, Matt.”

Michael has this look on his face like he’s been sucking lemons, hand clamped on Jeremy’s shoulder tight enough that even he’s wincing. Hissing at Michael to ease up a bit, Jesus Christ, Michael.

Matt has no fucking clue what that’s about, but hey whatever. He’s busy staring Gavin down like the idiot has a gun on him and fuck him anyway.

Idiot looks like he’s been through a meat-grinder, all bloody and beat up. Those fucking gold-framed sunglasses of his hooked into the collar of his shirt, lenses cracked and broken and goddamn him anyway.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not what you said before,” Ryan points out, quibbling just to quibble. 

Geoff looks like he wishes these assholes he recruited could stop with their bullshit for like, five goddamn minutes for once.

Lindsay snaps a picture of Matt down on one knee in front of Gavin on her phone and sends it to someone. (Odds are good it’s Trevor who took Alfredo and Fiona out of town for a job because they have an agreement.)

And, okay, yes. 

The first time Matt didn’t call Gavin a piece of shit – out loud, at any rate – but they all know he was thinking it. Especially after Gavin’s little adventure today.

“Matt,” Gavin says, strained note to his voice. “Could I have a word with you in private?”

Matt opens his mouth to tell him no, no he can not because he knows what Gavin’s about to say, but this being Gavin, eh doesn’t give him the chance.

No, Gavin pulls Matt to his feet and drags him along behind him as they head for the conference room, catcalls and Geoff’s despairing, “Don’t fuck in my conference room, you assholes!” following them.

========

The décor in the conference room is very...bland. 

No-nonsense hardwood laminate and this odd off-white paint for the walls. Glass-topped conference table with brushed-steel legs. 

The view’s nice, looks out over the city. You can see the mountains in the distance, and if it’s a clear day you can almost see Chiliad.

“Matt,” Gavin says, a little shaky. “What. What was that?”

Matt staring out the windows, but it’s the opposite of a clear day. Fat, heavy rain clouds with lightning and thunder out over Vinewood and moving towards the penthouse. 

Supposed to be one hell of a storm rolling in, at least a couple of inches of rain before night rolls around.

Matt looks over at Gavin, who still looks like shit, by the way, and crosses his arms. (Gavin almost got himself killed today, and Matt is not okay with that in any way, as though that will change things. Make the reckless idiot think twice before pulling those stunts of his.)

“What?” Matt asks, frown on his face and just enough confusion thrown in there that for a moment Gavin looks like he’s doubting himself, what he thinks he heard in the penthouse’s living room. “I didn't say anything.”

And, alright. 

That's pushing things a little too far because Gavin’s eyes narrow, all the stupid, reckless decision making abilities he has shoved aside to make way for the sharp-eyed bastard that enjoys playing dumb too damn much.

“There was a plan,” Gavin says, although which one he’s talking about is up for debate. “We had a plan, Matt.”

They did, didn’t they.

“Oh?” Matt says. “Which one might that be, Gavin? The one where you were supposed to stick with Ryan, and _not_ go off on your own? Or maybe you mean the one where you avoid the pack of guards with itchy trigger fingers? Ooh, or maybe - “

God, there are so many plans Gavin could be talking about. And true, they’re all smaller components to the master plan for the heist, but _still_.

“Uh,” Gavin says, like he realizes he’s stepped into a mine-field here. “None of the above?”

Matt stares at Gavin.

Look, he knows, okay. Matt knows this...thing they’ve been doing the past few weeks is a farce. Knows none of it was real, was just Gavin being Gavin, trying to get the others off his back about his dating dry spell. (And it’s not like there’s a dating site for criminals or anything, so Matt doesn’t know what they were thinking, but whatever.)

Matt drew the short straw and he was fine, just fine with pretending to be Gavin’s plus one because hey, why not? 

It was funny at first, watching the others react to the news Gavin was dating him. That he and Matt were a Thing. The expressions of horror and disgust as he and Gavin tried to out-do one another with pet names at every available opportunity, Matt trying to hold his shit together while Gavin simpered at him over the comms and just.

He kind of forgot for a while it wasn’t – look, he knows it will never happen, just. 

Matt forgot, let himself get swept along in Gavin’s chaos and had fun. Enjoyed himself a little too much and -

Point is, _point is_, for the last few weeks Matt’s life has been a super crappy romcom, and he just made things _worse_.

There was supposed to be this dramatic breakup after the heist, just enough to have everyone else fall for it hook, line, and sinker. Get them to buy it the way they thought someone like Gavin would be interested in someone like Matt – great joke, right? - but Matt fucked that up.

Saw Gavin standing there after everything that happened giving him this look, all _well? Get on with it then, we don’t have all day_ like he hadn’t come so damn close to dying, and Matt snapped.

Just.

Fucking snapped the way the betting pool Jack’s got going Matt’s not supposed to know about says he’s bound to one day with all the shit the crew gives him.

Matt snapped and instead of breaking up with Gavin he _proposed to him._

Gavin’s still watching him. 

Head tipped to the side and this little frown on his face, puzzling out what the hell’s gotten into Matt.

“Matt,” Gavin says, oddly formal about it. “While I know it can be confusing, breaking up rarely involves a marriage proposal.”

They kind of do? (Or maybe Matt’s lived a very different life from Gavin, because yeah. He's seen shit go down like this before.)

“Shows what you know,” Matt mutters. 

Gavin sighs, and shuffles over to one of the conference room chairs. Makes this pained little noise as he sits down, winces just the tiniest bit. 

“Matt,” he says, and gently pats the table. “Sit the hell down and talk to to me.”

Oh, such sweet nothings.

“I’m good where I am, thanks,” Matt says, always too stubborn for his own good. 

Several minutes go by while Gavin studies him, wheels turning in that head of his.

Alright then, love,” Gavin says, and Matt’s fingers dig into his arm at how the term of endearment just slips off his tongue so easily. 

Light and soft and not Matt’s alone because Gavin’s just as likely to call one of the others that or someone he bumps into on the street than Matt, so. 

Yeah. 

Not his, and he’s fine with that, but the past few weeks have fucked with Matt’s head a little too much. Gotten everything he used to keep (somewhat) neat and orderly in and locked down tight in his head all jumbled together and he’s just.

He’s tired.

“Matt,” Gavin says, concern creeping into his voice. “Are you okay?”

Matt kind of wants to laugh, or is it cry?

“I’m fine, Gavin,” he says, because he always is, right? Good old Matt Bragg, always there when the others need him, even if it’s to play fake boyfriend for some dumbshit. “Just fine.”

Gavin sighs, and when Matt looks over he realizes Gavin looks tired too.

Gotta be hurting like a son of a bitch too, after the day he’s had. Too many close calls and an unhealthy amount of explosions in his vicinity and all that. 

“You should have someone look you over,” Matt says, done with this conversation. “You look like shit.”

Gavin’s mouth twists, but Matt’s not in the mood for his bullshit anymore.

“I’ve got...stuff to do,” he says. He trusts B-Team to have things in hand, all the post-heist work they have to do to keep the authorities off their backs, but he needs to be doing something. Cant’ just stand around with his thumb up his ass reliving one of the worst days of his life in his head while Gavin sits there staring at him like he doesn’t get it. “I’ll talk to you later.”

He leaves before Gavin can say anything else, pushes past the cluster of idiots outside the conference room doors and ignores the looks they give him as he does. 

========

Matt hides out as much as he can for the next week, makes up excuses and flat-out lies to avoid facing the others in any capacity. (Thank God for B-Team running interference or he might have had to talk about his _feelings_.)

But then, you know.

The food poisoning hits, and he’s vulnerable like a turtle turtle turned on its back. Or is that tortoises?

Whichever one it is, he’s too sick to run when Trevor finally catches him.

“There you are.”

Matt doesn’t cringe, no.

That would just tip Trevor off as to Matt’s horrible life choices even more. No, Matt just feel his stomach clench up on him. (Could be the food poisoning, but he doesn’t get the accompanying nausea, just this all-over dread, so. Probably the feelings thing.)

“Matt?” Trevor asks, and then when Matt pretends he can’t hear him what with his headphones in, sternly, “_Matt Bragg._”

Matt would keep pretending he can’t hear Trevor, but then the asshole yanks the cord of his headphone out of Matt’s computer and he has to slap at the keyboard to mute the volume before it’s too late and Trevor hears what he’s listening to.

“Is that...Matt. Is that Sarah McLachlan ?”

Matt winces, and doesn’t deny it. (But oh, would he love to.)

“It’s a scientific fact,” Matt says, trying to hold on to whatever dignity he has left. “It's a scientific fact that listening to sad music after a breakup is beneficial.”

He’s pretty sure he just pulled that out of his ass, but whatever. The saddest song he can think of is from that one damned humane society commercial, God knows he feels like shit just thinking about it.

And...you know, the thing where he and Gavin weren’t actually dating, but. Uh. Details?

Trevor stares at him for a moment before shaking his head.

“Okay, whatever the hell that’s all about aside, I came to check on you.”

Well, obviously, what with Trevor picking the locks on Matt’s front door, yes.

“And!” Trevor continues, “I brought you a gift.”

That’s...concerning.

Deeply, deeply concerning.

Trevor’s smiling.

“Uh - “

Trevor’s smiling and Matt’s known him too long not to recognize the warning signs, and yet he’s still caught by surprise when Trevor reveals said “gift”.

“Bring him in!” Trevor calls out, like a demented game show host ushering in a contestant.

Behind Trevor Matt’s front door swings open to show Jeremy and a reluctant looking Gavin. Jeremy all but dragging Gavin inside, this manic grin on his face as he gives Gavin a little shove towards Matt and then blocks the door.

“Hey, Matt!” Jeremy says, and bright and cheerful and not a little terrifying. “Look who we found!”

Would you look at that? The nausea’s back, because Gavin’s not looking at him.

Is, in fact, looking at Trevor and Jeremy, everything thing about him screaming that he doesn’t want to be here, dear God you two, please let him leave,.

Trevor’s smiles kicks up another notch as he leans around Gavin and pins Matt with a look.

“You two kids play nice now,” he says with a wink. “We’ll be right outside.”

What.

“What?”

But Trevor borrows Matt’s earlier trick of selective hearing because he just waltzes right on out of Matt’s apartment with Jeremy and shuts the door behind them.

“Uh,” Matt says again, because what the hell? “Hey, Gavin.”

Gavin flinches, which is never a good sign.

He flinches, and turns to look at Matt.

Still looks like shit, but like. Less so.

The bruises are fading, no longer that dark, ugly purple Matt remembers from the penthouse. The cuts on his face and neck have scabbed over, should heal without scarring.

But there are dark marks under his eyes that weren’t there the last time Matt saw him, and he looks. Tired. Not the way he normally looks, burning the candle at both ends and thriving off it, no, he looks exhausted.

“You look like shit in a completely different way,” Matt says, because he’s never had a whole brain-to-mouth filter, and boy has that gotten him into trouble in the past. “No offense.”

Gavin makes a face at that, mouth quirking into the tiniest of smiles.

“Oh, no offense taken then since you said that, Matt,” he says, dumb little in-joke with them. 

And then you know, an awkward pause.

Neither of them want to be here having the discussion they’re about to have because Trevor and Jeremy are assholes.

“I have a fire escape?” Matt offers, waves a hand more or less in the right direction. “But I have a feeling they roped Alfredo into this mess, and you know Alfredo.”

No doubt set up in a sniper’s nest in case they try to sneak out the back.

“Oh, they did,” Gavin says, eyes darting to Matt’s living room windows. “Fiona’s out there too.”

Jesus. 

That’s something Matt didn’t need to know considering she has to be itching to take him down for all the shit he gives her.

“Awesome,” Matt says, because really. 

_Awesome_.

Gavin’s watching Matt, this little frown between his eyes. All concerned and shit.

“You look terrible,” Gavin says, takes a step towards Matt before he stops himself, pulls the hand that was reaching towards him back with a jerky little motion. “Are you alright?”

Matt is super not alright, because the food poisoning. (And also his terrible life choices, but mainly the food poisoning at this point.)

“Well, you know,” Matt says. “Food poisoning will do that to you.”

Interestingly enough, Gavin winces. Opens and closes his mouth a few times like he’s got something to say and just doesn’t know how.

Like maybe he knows something Matt doesn’t, or just. Who even knows.

“Gavin?”

Gavin does the thing he does when he’s trying to translate from Gavin to English and failing, so he settles for vague hand gestures and words that are kind of sort of almost right with random noises thrown in.

It sounds like gibberish, and Matt can never tell if it’s some kind of British slang or Gavin’s brain shorting out.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that?”

Gavin sighs, looking at Matt like he’s the idiot here.

“I said,” Gavin says. “You should be nicer to Sarah.”

Matt’s positive that isn’t what Gavin said, but sure. 

Also.

“Wait.”

Gavin raises his eyebrows, corner of his mouth ticking up like he thinks something is hilarious but he doesn’t want to look like an asshole. (Too late, but Matt appreciates the attempt.)

“_Wait_.”

Matt likes Sarah, he does. Gives her a lot of grief because he likes her, because like everyone else in the crew it’s how he shows affection or some shit. (They’re all a fucked up.)

Problem is, Sarah is a monster of a human being.

Plays all sweet and nice, but Matt knows she’s plotting behind his back, waiting for the right moment to lay him low so she can take his place and rule with an iron fist or some shit. 

Or, you know. Just lay him low because he gives her shit and she’s not someone who takes kindly to that, whichever.

“She brought me my lunch,” Matt says, feeling like a detective in some shitty Vinewood movie putting the pieces together.

Sarah brought Matt his lunch, and the the food poisoning happened and he was too busy trying to puke up his guts to ponder overmuch how the food poisoning happened, or question if it was intentional.

“Oh my God,” Matt says, impressed despite of himself because she was so smooth about it, all happy smiles and kind and generous to get lunch for B-Team, just doing a good deed and dear God she’s far more devious than he gave her credit for. “Oh my _God_.”

Gavin bites his lip, looks away. Doesn’t laugh at Matt while struggles to come to terms with this most heinous of betrayals, no.

God no, Gavin would never.

“If it helps,” Gavin says, shoulders shaking just the tiniest bit. “I’m certain Trevor put her up to it.”

That...yeah. That doesn’t surprise Matt as much. Trevor would thinking giving Matt food poisoning would give him the perfect opening to instigate this...whatever this is.

(Oh, everyone thinks Trevor’s the nice one. All polite and shit, but no. Trevor is the worst one in the entire crew, including Sarah.)

“Of course he did,” Matt mutters. “It’s Trevor.”

Gavin clears his throat, shuffles his feet.

Catches Matt eye for a moment, this smile on his face before he looks away again just as fast. 

Looks awkward as hell and Matt can’t figure out if that little flicker of guilt he saw on his face before he did was real or just a figment of his imagination.

And then - 

“I bollocksed everything up between us, didn't I?” Gavin asks, staring at the ugly little garden garden gnome statue Jeremy stole for Matt on a dare with a frown on his face. “Did everything all wrong.”

Matt says nothing. He’s not sure what he _can_ say, so he lets Gavin talk it out since that seems to be what he needs right now.

Something about the crew giving him grief over his non-existent romantic life and Gavin having enough. Wanting just a little bit of peace and quiet on that front as he wrestled with crew business and gearing up for the heist and a million and one other things.

Matt makes noises in the appropriate places because knows all about that, remembers Gavin explaining it to him when he made that indecent proposal of his. (Should have been a warning sign he did it over dinner, took Matt out to one of his favorite places to sweeten the deal. Butter him up, all that stuff.)

“It just...” Gavin sighs, gives Matt this wry smile. “It all got out of hand.”

That’s one way to put it.

“I thought,” Gavin sighs again, frustrated. “I thought I had it under control. Figured it was just for a little while, that I wouldn’t...wouldn’t lose sight of things.”

Matt’s stomach does this little flip, a dip and roll and the nausea is...doing something. Has him sinking down on his couch and giving Gavin a wordless shrug as he mimes _food poisoning kind of sucks_ at him, or something close enough that Gavin seems to get it. 

Matt watches as Gavin takes a seat in the crappy arm chair on the other side of Matt’s coffee table. Sees him fiddle with the strings on his hoodie, worrying the knot between his fingers.

“Michael told me it was a bad idea,” Gavin says, mumbles almost. “Said I was playing with fire, going to get burned and all that, but I didn’t listen to him. Told him he couldn’t say anything, and you know how he is.”

Oh, Matt knows.

Asshole would have either gone to Matt the moment he figured everything out to fuck with Gavin or he’d have Gavin’s back the whole way. (Or a little bit of both, give Matt more shit than usual and drop little comments here and there that were confusing as hell at the time, but now? Yeah. That whole hindsight thing is a bitch.)

Gavin makes a face, waves his hand in even more vague gestures.

“Can’t keep a secret from Michael to save my life,” he says. “Bastard’s good at sniffing ‘em out.”

Or maybe he just knows Gavin that well. (Also, Matt’s will pass on the nose jokes because the mood in the room is all wrong. Noble sacrifice on his part right there.)

Gavin shrugs, like he knows what Matt’s thinking.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to go the way it did,” Gavin says, fingers moving on to picking the hoodie string apart, undoing the knot and unraveling the string. “But it was just too much bloody fun messing with the others, but then it...”

Gavin trails off, frowning at the bits of fabric stuck under his nails like he doesn’t know where they came from. Scowls as he sets to pulling them free, making a messy pile of shredded fluff on Matt’s coffee table like an asshole.

“It got complicated,” Matt finishes for him. Because it did. He knows what Gavin means, because it really was fun at first. 

The two of them fucking with the others, and just enjoying the ride. Getting the chance to know one another better, which was the main problem. Kicked that crush Matt had on Gavin into overdrive. Made him realize that hey, wow, that little crush he’d had on Gavin since he joined the crew wasn’t middle school infatuation with the guy. That he had _feelings_ for Gavin even though he damn well knew better than that.

Knew perfectly well what a piece of shit Gavin was and he _still_ liked him. (Liked-liked, even.)

But by then it was too late to keep himself from getting hurt and he knew that, he did, he just didn’t give a damn.

Gavin plucks the last bit of cloth out from under his nails and sighs.

“Yeah,” he says, sounding tired and defeated and guilty as Matt’s ever heard him. “That.”

Which, okay, great. Nice to know and everything, but - 

“I like you,” Gavin blurts out, still staring at his hands, his nails. “A lot, Matt. I like you a lot.”

Matt doesn’t know what that means in this context.

“Well,” he says. Stops. Thinks, or tries to, but he’s kind of an idiot. “That’s great to hear, Gavin. I like you too.”

God, they sound like toddlers.

No, worse, because toddlers can express their emotions. What the two of them are doing is just sad. 

Gavin looks up at him, like Matt’s not understanding him.

“No,” he says, insistent. “I _like_ you, Matt.”

...Okay?

Gavin stares at Matt, who looks back feeling like he’s missing something but no clue what it could be and oh, Jesus, he hates moments like these, okay. Really, _really_ hates them because they end with Matt being used as bait or conned into doing something he super doesn’t want to be part of. (See: Pretending to Date Gavin-fucking-Free as just one example.)

“Oh my God,” Gavin says, laughter a little hysterical at the edges. “Oh my God, _Matt_.”

Matt freezes when Gavin shoves himself to his feet and climbs over Matt’s coffee table - “Hey, my coffee table!” - to stand in front of him.

Looks down at Matt with that frown on his face again, the puzzle-solving one and sighs as he gives Matt this _smile_.

Soft and warm and too...too much. 

Has Matt trying to move, back away from him because _no_, but there’s nowhere for him to go. Can’t climb over the back of the couch because his balance is shit at the moment, and also he’s not the athletic sort. 

Also, he might puke if he tries it.

“Matt Bragg,” Gavin says, and gets down on his knees in front of Matt to put them on even ground. 

...Even-ish.

“You’re kind of an idiot, Matt Bragg,” Gavin says, and the way his voice sounds is all kinds of unfair, just as soft and affectionate as that damned smile of his. “And I’m not sure why, but I like that about you.”

That’s. Wow. Flattering?

“Um, thanks?”

Gavin rolls his eyes, because Matt isn’t a hundred percent on board with whatever it is he’s doing here – giving Matt backhanded compliments while confusing the hell out of him maybe? - and shakes his head.

“I’d like to date you,” Gavin says in one big rush. Breathes. “Properly, I mean. Take you out to all your favorite...restaurants and to movies and all that.”

Matt squints at Gavin.

He knows that that hesitation regarding Matt’s “restaurants” was all about. Knows everyone in the crew cannot fathom how he hasn’t died of scurvy or malnutrition yet with the way he eats. Knows what Gavin thinks about all of it, and yet here he is being mildly insulting about it. 

That’s Gavin making an effort, really trying. More than Matt ever hoped for, and it’s - 

Matt likes it. 

Likes that Gavin’s making an effort here, letting Matt see him like this when he’s always so guarded about things. (Laughs and jokes, sure, and always, always deflecting.)

He’s still having a hard time buying someone as brilliant, as vibrant as Gavin would be interested in someone as – well. Someone like _Matt_, but there’s this part of him that wants to because Matt knows Gavin’s a piece of shit, sure, but he’s not someone who’d knowingly set out to fuck with Matt’s feelings.

Leap of faith, trust fall. Something like that.

“Wow,” Matt says, and he doesn’t know if the way his heart kicks him in the chest is related to the food poisoning or something else, or if it’s anything to do with how nervous Gavin looks right now. “That really hurt you to say didn’t it.”

Gavin’s eyes widen, and Matt can see him jumping to all the wrong conclusions, so he just.

“Okay,” Matt says, and laughs at the way Gavin chokes a little bit between trying to apologize harder and the confusion at Matt’s easy agreement. “Yeah, okay. We can do that. The dating thing. I’m super on board with that.”

Gavin’s not wrong about Matt being an idiot, because talk about smooth, but hey. Gavin’s the idiot who wants to date Matt, so what does that say about him?

And yes, for the record Matt knows he’s insulting himself there, but seriously. 

Gavin could have anyone he wanted and he’s choosing Matt. 

And sure, there’s every chance this won’t work out between them, but that’s the risk anyone takes when they date someone, isn’t it? 

Give him a little hope and he goes all optimistic, doesn’t he? Because it’s possible this can still blow up in their faces, but Matt’s trying to ignore that for the moment. Wants to believe it can (it can) work between them if they’re both willing to put in some effort, be a little more honest with one another.

“...I feel like you’re laughing at me, Matt Bragg.”

Matt pastes on an innocent expression, because good lord no, Gavin. He would never dare do such a thing.

“Perish the thought,” he says, and laughs at the look Gavin gives him because they’re both idiots and this is such a bad idea, but that’s kind of what they _do_, so there’s that.

Gavin sighs again, but there’s a smile playing on his lips and he looks. He looks happy, like he can’t believe Matt’s giving him a chance, second one or whatever this is, and that can’t be a bad thing.

“Hey,” Matt says, leans forward and waits until Gavin does the same. “I kind of like you too, Gavin.”


End file.
